Fear

• Susy Cornford, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2018

A warm mug in my hand, the fear from before slowly leaking out through my silent tears. The warm smell of honey rises from the chipped mug. I can still feel his hands gripped around my wrists, I scratch at the red lines indented into my skin. I need to take another shower. My mum already called, I couldn’t tell her everything. Too bloody hard. As the fear melts away it’s replaced with regret. I shouldn’t regret wearing my new red dress. I shouldn’t have to.
Tell me, please. My phone beeps quietly from under my thigh.
Can you come round?
You sure?
I think about it for a minute, is inviting my sister around a good idea?
Yes please
It will take her five minutes to get here, she has a key. Three if she speeds. She will speed, she always does.
The shower is too hot, but I need to feel clean again. I scrub at the dirt under my fingernails, the mud on my hem line. Distantly, I hear the front door opening and closing, the kettle clicking on. But the water keeps falling. Light tapping on the unlocked bathroom door.
“You’re crying.”
I hadn’t noticed the tears mixing with the clear water. And I fall apart.
A towel is brought around my quivering shoulders and a fresh cup of tea is placed in my shaking hands.
“It’s not ok. But you will be. You hear me?” I try to nod but my head is pulsing so loudly I can only just hear her.
“It’s not okay.” I manage to mumble. She nods into my damp hair. “But I will be?” I can only just get the words out. It’s hard to think past tonight.
“You’re going to have a long sleep, I’ll stay overnight. Yeah?” I have no choice but to nod.“We’ll make some banana bread. And maybe even get some smoothies from mum.” Mum works at Boost.
“Can we get maple butter?” I don’t know why that’s all I think about. Of all the things.
“We sure can, Honey Bee.” The nickname helps me breath.

My bed is softer than it ever has been. My pillow smells like the soft sundays of my childhood, but I can’t sleep. The image of his eyes are plastered onto the back of my eyelids. Fire and hunger. The monster under my bed has returned, I can almost feel it breathing; above me, below me, around me. Its menacing claws grab at my bed posts and threaten to steal me away. I know my sister is sleeping in the room next to mine on a creaky couch but I want to deal with this on my own.
I click open my phone beside my bed, 3:40 am. Shit. I can hear the sound of my sister’s snores and I know that I won’t be sleeping tonight.